The fish were late this year. Stanley sat with the collected fishermen and ate the egg sandwich he’d made at home.

Home was dusty. It was never dusty before Evelyn’s death. So he came to the river and waited.

The other men drifted away. “It’s over,” they said.

He waited.

Over a lifetime, Ursula Hoult has done many things – a little bit of a lot of things, to put it another way. As you read, you may wonder “did she make that bit up”? And the answer is quite likely: “Yes, because it suited the story.” She is currently focused on flashfiction writing. See more at ursulahoult.com.